Adventures In Cake Sitting

by JMac

Part 2 The Imperfect Storm

                
“Go Out Side!”
                
“Play In Snow!”
                
“Absolutely not,” stated Quiz.
                
“Aww, Quizzie no fun,” moped Pound Cake.
                
“Yes, I know,” said Quiz.  She looked at the nearest window.  Quiz had to use her magic to brush the frost patterns away just to see through the pane.  The results of her effort did not last long, as new wispy ice features began to form immediately.  It didn’t matter.  There was nothing to see but the driving snow.   “I would not dare go out in this storm.  If it is not safe for me it certainly is not safe for you.”
                
“You listen to Miss Quizzical, guys,” said Pinkie.  “She’s a bold adventurer like Daring Do, and she knows danger when she sees it!”
                
The twins stared at Pinkie.
                
“Miss Pinkie, I believe you are confusing the children,” said Quiz.  “They must find it impossible to associate me with anything as exciting as you describe.  In all fairness, what you call my ‘adventures’ would be better described as ‘accidents.’”
                
“You're too modest, Quizzical.  I’m sure lots of ponies would find stories about your ‘accidents’ exciting.”
                
“Oh, dear,” muttered Quiz.  The very idea of anypony telling stories about her was  embarrassing.  “At any rate, it is dangerous, and none of us are going out in this storm.”
                
“This protect you,” said Pumpkin, and she telekinetically drew an umbrella from its stand and presented it to Quiz.
                
Bemused, Quiz regarded the parrot’s head handle being offered to her.  “Thank you, Pumpkin.  But that will not be enough to safely brave the snow.  If I were to open that outside in these winds I would surely fly away.”
                
“Love to fly!” cried Pound, buzzing around Quiz’s head.
                
Quiz shuddered.  “That would make one of us, Pound.”
                
The twins giggled.  “Quizzie funny.”
                
“I was not joking.”
                
“Come on, kids,” cried Pinkie.  “Pumpkin, let’s see how tall a tower we can build before Pound knocks it down!”
                
Soon, Pinkie was stacking building blocks while Pumpkin used her magic to try and fend off her brother.  Quiz thought Pinkie’s choice of  game was much to rowdy for inside play, but she had to admit that Pinkie had a point.  The twins were too excited by the snow they were missing for a more quiet activity.
                
Quiz noticed that the twins would babble together as they played, and would frequently crack themselves up and there would be a fit of giggling.  It took her a while to realize that in their baby talk they were affecting a monotone drone.
                
“Oh,” whispered Quiz.  “That is how I sound to them.”
                
Blushing, Quiz retreated to the kitchen.  There were dishes to be done.

                
As Quiz worked at the sink she heard a bell tone.  It was her friend Sweetie Belle asking to be sent a Note.
                
Quiz had invented a spell that allowed two unicorns to send each other magical notes.  She called it, with typical simplicity and clarity, “Notes.”  Sweetie Belle was not skilled enough to send a first Note, but she could respond if Quiz started the process.  She could also send a tone to let Quiz know she wanted to chat.  Quiz felt Sweetie Belle did this a bit too often.   Sweetie Belle liked to talk considerably more than Quiz did.
                
This evening Quiz thought a bit of idle chatter might be a welcome distraction.  She sent the Note.

                
Almost immediately, a sheet of insubstantial note paper, glowing a pretty shade of blue, appeared hovering in front of Quiz.

                
A golden yellow Note appeared next to the blue one.

                
At the same time Quiz sent this Note she muttered aloud, “Oh, dear.  Does this mean Dinky will soon also be sending me tones?”

                
Quiz considered this.  That the Weather Patrol was going to such lengths alarmed her.  The storm must be worse than it looked, and it looked horrifying.  But Quiz could do nothing about that.
                
She could do something about another concern.

                
“So I have been told,” muttered Quiz.

                
“Quizzical, come and play with us!” Pinkie called from the living room.
                
“I am nearly finished, Miss Pinkie,” Quiz answered.  With the dishes done Quiz would lose her excuse to hide in the kitchen.  She braced herself for the inevitable.

                
Quiz sighed.

                
“Quizzical, come on!” called Pinkie.  “I told the kids how good you are at hide-and-seek and they want to challenge you!”
                
“Oh, dear,” Quiz said to herself.  “That… well, actually, that sounds tolerable.”
                
Before she could answer, Quiz overheard Pinkie speaking firmly, “No, Pound Cake, you do not jump on the furniture.  Here, let me show you.  See what I’m doing now?  That is exactly what you are not allowed to do.”
                
“Look out, Pinkie!” one of the twins laughed.
                
“Uh, Oh,” said Quiz.  She sent a Note saying good-bye and that she had to go, and cut the connection without waiting for a response.  As she hurried to the living room Quiz heard a startled squeal, followed by Pinkie crying out.
                
“Woooo!  Wooo!  Wooo!”
                
As soon as she reached the living room Quiz was forced to duck, as Pinkie flew by just above her head.
                
The Cakes had just remodeled their living room, and Pinkie had forgotten all about their new ceiling fans.  As she demonstrated the exact technique for bouncing on the furniture that was forbidden, Pinkie’s mane was swept up and tangled in a fan blade.  As Quiz cringed and the twins cheered Pinkie made three more orbits before she pulled free and was tossed across the room.  She struck the back of an easy chair, which fell over, and Pinkie disappeared behind it.
                
A moment later Pinkie popped up, and while she was a bit wobbly she said, “I’m alright!”
                
The tortured mounts of the fan gave way, and the fan shot across the room and hit Pinkie in the forehead.  She fell back hard against the wall, and this was just too much for the mounting brackets of a shelf above Pinkie.  The shelf, along with its load of encyclopedias, fell and broke over Pinkie’s head.  She disappeared behind the chair again.
                
After a pause, Pinkie again appeared, wobbling considerably more this time.  She said, “Maybe not.” There was a soft thud as she disappeared one last time.

                
“Bother!” gasped Quiz.  She had summoned a book on first aid from the library, and held it open floating in the air.  She was paging through the section on head injuries as she cleaned a cut on Pinkie’s brow.  “According to this, Miss Pinkie exhibits many of the symptoms of delirium when she is well.  That is not helpful.”
                
It had taken a heroic effort, with the twins getting under hoof as much they could manage, but Quiz had gotten Pinkie onto a sofa.   She seemed to be resting comfortably.   In fact, she seemed to be dreaming.
                
“Pinkie napping?” asked Pumpkin.
                
“Yes,” said Quiz.  “Rather than a coma, she seems to have fallen into natural sleep.  Miss Pinkie did complain that she was sleep deprived.  The book says that this may be a good sign, or it may not.  Again, that is not helpful.”
                
“Pinkie nap, so Quizzie play with us!” demanded Pound.
                
“Perhaps later.  For now, I need you to play quietly while I see to Miss Pinkie.”
                
“I’m so glad to see you guys getting along,” said Pinkie dreamily.   “More punch, Mr. Turnip?”
                
“Who she talk to?” asked Pumpkin.
                
“Mr. Turnip, Rocky, and Rainbow Dash,” Quiz answered.  “The three of them are apparently at a party, and off to the side telling jokes.”
                
“Pinkie silly!”
                
“Perhaps, but it seems like a very nice party.”  Pinkie’s wound had almost stopped bleeding, and Quiz began to apply a bandage.  “We should leave Miss Pinkie to her party while she recovers.”
                
Pound hovered above Quiz, settling his hooves lightly between her ears.  “Quizzie play with us now!”
                
“Young colt, it is very rude to land on a pony’s head without their permission.”  Pound moved off, and took up a station between Quiz and her book.
                
“Want more,” said Pumpkin.  She reached out with her magic to open her toy chest, intent on dumping all her playthings on the floor.
                
Quiz created a screen to interrupt Pumpkin’s spell.  “Play with the toys you already have out, Pumpkin.”
                
“Want more!”  Pumpkin stepped to the side to get around Quiz’s screen.
                
“Not now, please.  Pound, please move, I am reading that.”  Quiz moved her screen to counter Pumpkin’s spell.
                
Laughing, Pumpkin galloped across the room the get past Quiz, and began to levitate the toy chest.  Quiz, stopped her again.  “Young filly, are you dueling with me?  That is not acceptable.  I am not allowed to duel with magic without adult supervision, you certainly are not.”
                
“Bet I beat you!” cried Pumpkin, dashing to the opposite side of the room to get around Quiz again.
                
“I do not bet,” said Quiz, as she surrounded Pumpkin with an anti-magic bubble.  Pumpkin pouted, and Quiz was afraid she would start to cry.
                
A buzzing sound, swiftly rising in volume, reminded Quiz that she had lost track of Pound.  As he pulled out of his dive, Pound released the pillow he was carrying.  It hit Quiz so hard in the back of the head she stumbled and almost fell.  Pumpkin escaped from Quiz’s spell.
                
“Pound!  That was very naughty.  You do not have permission for a pillow fight, and you may not dive bomb guests in your home under any circumstances.”
                
“Quizzie not like this game?”  Pound had gathered up a load of building blocks and was circling to make another pass.
                
“Oh, my,” Quiz was just able to catch the blocks as they fell at her.  Then she was struck in the face by a cluster of soft toys.
                
“I win!” cried Pumpkin.
                
Quiz was so startled she dropped the blocks on her own head.
                
“Enough!” shouted Quiz, stomping her hooves.  Then she went on yelling.  “You are naughty, naughty, naughty … er…” The twins were startled into silence and just stared at her.  Blushing, she tried again in a calmer tone.  “That is, enough of this game.  You must stop now.”
                
“Pinkie say Quizzie play with us!”
                
“Pinkie say it good ‘sperience for Quizzie!”
                
“Okay, everypony, it’s time for some games…” muttered Pinkie, in her sleep.
                
“Very well,” said Quiz.  “If you will give me ten minutes to see to Miss Pinkie, I will play a game with you.”
                
“We choose?”
                
“It will be the game of your choice.”
                
“Promise?”
                
“I promise.”
                
“Yay!”
                
It occurred to Quiz that it had not taken her long to break all the rules of foal sitting Pinkie had given her.

                
“Now, Ladies, you both look divine.  Let me get you some cake…” sighed Pinkie.  Apparently, Rarity and Madam La Flour had shown up at her party wearing the same hats.
                
Quiz was stymied.  There was absolutely nothing more she could do for Pinkie.  She wanted to go for help, but she couldn’t leave the twins alone, and she certainly couldn’t take them out into the storm.
                
Quiz had no idea what to do, and she hated it.
                
A tone rang out of thin air.  Quiz answered it.

                
That was an honest answer, though missing a few details.  Quiz wasn’t about to share any of her troubles with her friends.  Why worry them?  It wasn’t as if Dinky or Sweetie Belle knew any more about head injuries than she did.  Worse yet, Pipsqueak might be reading over their shoulders.  Pip fancied himself a bold adventurer.  Quiz could imagine him pulling on his snow boots and sneaking out of the house to rescue her.  Quiz could not bear the thought of something happening to Pip.

                
In fact, Quiz knew that it could be done, in theory.  She was sure that eventually her intellectual curiosity would get the better of her, and she would work on the problem.  For now, Quiz had no desire to become the network hub for her friends chitchat.
                
On the floor in front of her, the twins were cracking each other up.  The game was a contest of who could give the other the sternest look.
                
“You are naughty young colt!  No pillow fight!  No dive bomb!”
                
“Bad little filly!  You duel in house!”
                
The twins collapsed into fits of laughter.
                
Quiz looked away and wiped her eyes.

                
Quiz regretted it the moment she sent the Note.  She had the bad habit of saying “I will be fine” whenever she wasn’t going to be fine at all, and both her friends knew it.

                
Quiz heaved a deep sigh, and composed her Note.

                
Quiz was not being entirely honest.

                
Quiz excused herself, as the twins were getting impatient, and she had one more task before she could play the game as promised.
                
She debated sending a Note to the Ponyville hospital.  Doctor Stable could read the Note, even though he didn’t know the spell, so he could not answer.  However, it seemed unlikely that anypony could help her.  Potential rescuers might well come to harm if they tried.
                
If she were alone there would have been no question, Quiz would have waited until the storm was over to call for help.  But she was not alone, and she was responsible for the twins and Pinkie.  Quiz felt obligated to at least send a message and hope for the best.
                
She composed a Note, outlining her situation and listing Pinkie’s symptoms, signed it, and send it to Doctor Stable.

                
Doc Stable was catching his breath after setting his fifth broken wing of the evening, when the glowing beige Note appeared out of nowhere, and floated in front of his nose.

                
The Emergency Room doors opened, and Stable held up a leg to shield his eyes from the blast of icy wind and snow.  He accidentally waved through the Note, and dispelled it.
               
Derpy entered the E.R., carrying two unconscious pegasi.  Burly orderlies hurried to take them from her.
                
“What happened?” asked Stable.
                
“They were thrown into each other in a gust,” answered Derpy.  “I think they cracked their skulls together.”
                
“Head x-rays for these two,” Stable ordered.  He looked at Derpy critically.  He had never seen a more wind battered pegasus still standing upright.  “Rainbow Dash has already rescued eight members of her team.  You guys are really getting crushed out there.”
               
Derpy nodded.  “It’s too dangerous to fight the storm here.  We’re too close to the Everfree Forest.  We are going to have to retreat.”
                
“Retreat?!”
                
“We’re going to form a line at Canterlot and push the storm back from there.”
               
“But that means giving up on Ponyville!”
                
“Yeah, but only for tonight.”  Derpy appeared to be close to tears.  “It’s… hard.  Really hard.  We all have something here we care enough about to fight for.  But that should give us the juice we need to turn back the Windigoes.  Windys can’t beat ponies that care.”
                
“Well, good luck to you.”  There was nothing more to say.  Stable had patients to get to, and Derpy was in a hurry to return to her team.  The doctor  had already forgotten about the Note.
                
That was just as well.  There was nothing he could do for Quiz anyway.

                
“Alright, children, pick a game,” declared Quiz.  “We will play until it is time for your baths.”
                
“Not part of deal!” exclaimed Pound.
                
“No, but bath time is part of your schedule.  You cannot say I have changed anything.  Now, what would you like to play?”
                
The twins answered in unison.  “Hide-seek!  Hide-seek!”
                
This came as a relief to Quiz.  She had already found a shadow between the couch and the wall where she could keep track of Pinkie while she watched the twins hunt for her.  Quiz planned to allow a reasonable interval to pass, then she would let the children find her.
                
“Quizzie It!”
                
“Oh.  Oh, darn.”